Imagine
by JackSparrowsBooty
Summary: AU - takes place during season 8...Elliot and Olivia are married and awaiting a baby...this is COMPLETE FLUFF. You have been warned!


A/N: I had this posted on SVUfiction, but I have edited it to make it a little more palatable.

* * *

Olivia awoke on her left side; the heavy coverlet which had once been thrown over her to warm her up was kicked off, lying in a heap on Elliot's side of the bed. She rubbed her eyes, noting that the room was still dark, and that the cobalt blue of dawn was beginning to peek through the curtains of their bedroom window. She reached her hand out to touch her husband and instead her palm smacked a cool empty space where Elliot's body would have been. She pushed herself clumsily to her elbows and peered down to the left of the room where their adjoined bathroom was, noticing that the door was closed with the light on. She sighed and lay back down, glancing at their bedside alarm clock.

6:44 am.

She was surprised she hadn't heard the thing go off, as she slept closest to it, but that must've been a testament on how exhausted she was. Not to mention how sore she had been since yesterday evening. Olivia had desperately coaxed Elliot into a quick lovemaking session, despite the fact that she felt like a bloated whale, was pretty tender in her nether parts, and that made more so because she was three days overdue. But she was insistent; knowing that the 'act' could jumpstart the laboring process. Her doctor had informed her earlier that day that her cervix was "soft" and dilated to about three centimeters. _Difficult to predict the 'when' in labor and delivery, _he'd said. _Natural methods like walking and sexual intercourse were the safest practices. _Apparently the doctor had no concern for her physical state—afterwards, she felt she may have over-extended her lower back, because the muscles were flaming angry at her.

Just as she closed her eyes to fall back into sleep, the bathroom door opened, revealing her newly-procured husband who was dressed in his button-down and slacks, save for the tie and jacket. He was freshly showered and smelled like his aftershave, a scent that Olivia adored greatly. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the masculine smell, then pushed herself to her left elbow. "Morning," she said huskily.

Elliot sat down next to her belly gently and leaned down, kissing her on the lips. He grabbed his shoes from underneath their bed and proceeded to slipping them onto his feet and tying the laces. "Sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to wake you."

She smiled. "It's all right."

He finished with his shoes and moved over to their walk-in closet, grabbing a dark red tie. "How're you feeling?"

Olivia relaxed into her pillow, shoving her fist underneath to plump it up a bit more. "My back kind of hurts, but I think it's from last night." He grinned, sheepish, from the doorway to the closet as her eyebrows wiggled suggestively. "You did a number on me, Stabler."

He grimaced. "I'm sorry, Liv." Elliot fixed his tie expertly, then sat on the edge of their bed again, placing his hand on her hip. "Are you sure it's not labor pains? Kathleen's birth was nothing but back labor."

Olivia shook her head. "I don't think so. It feels more in my muscles than anything. You know what'd be great? If you could get me a couple Tylenol."

After he'd given her a small glass of water and a couple of pain reducers, he gave her a kiss and threw on his suit coat. He glanced over at her with a look of worried uncertainty. "Are you sure you're all right?"

She felt herself sigh with indignation. Did he think just because this was her first baby and she was almost 41 weeks pregnant that she was a complete moron? When in the long years that they'd known each other had she ever indicated that she was incapable of figuring it out for herself? "Yes, El," she muttered, closing her eyes and pressing her head deeper into the pillow. "I'll call you if anything changes."

He hesitated for a brief moment, the concern still creasing his forehead. "All right. I'll give you a call on my lunch hour. Love you."

"I love you, too."

Olivia listened to him exit the apartment, then sighed and attempted to focus on going back to sleep, but she was too alert to succeed in any kind of effective restful state. Instead, she swung her legs over to the side of the bed and wrestled her way into a sitting position with the help of the bedside table next to her. Her hips screamed in protest, but she'd become used to the intense pressure of her son's head in her pelvis and the soreness of being extremely pregnant. She wished that the pain in her back meant something, maybe the early stage of labor—she hoped— but she'd been wrongfully assuming that pressure and pain was labor for four solid weeks, with nothing to show for it except an ever expanding abdomen. Olivia tried everything she could think of to encourage the labor process because she was sick of being pregnant and certainly ready to give birth. Ready to get back to some sort of normalcy. Whatever that meant.

She chuckled at the thought. In the beginning she'd been terrified of the end result. She knew it was going to hurt, knew that it was inevitable. Now she was all for the whole thing to be done and over with. She'd welcome the pain if it meant not being miserably enormous anymore; her belly would no longer be the central focus of attention of any room she walked into.

Stepping into the bathroom, she leaned over the bathtub to the best of her ability, and turned the knob to the faucet. A bath was definitely the first thing on her to-do list.

It was nearly eleven o'clock when she began feeling menstrual like cramps in her lower abdomen. The pain in her back had intensified greatly, even despite upping the amount of Tylenol. She was now at her maximum dosage and nothing had been alleviated. She'd made a light breakfast, because something just felt _off_. Not right. She hadn't felt so queasy since her early stages of pregnancy, when she'd spend mornings between paperwork and canvassing neighborhoods upchucking her meager breakfasts into any nearby wastebasket.

One o'clock came around and Olivia was almost certain she was in active labor. She didn't want to immediately call Elliot, because with her luck the pain would go away and she would end up feeling silly going to the hospital with no progress shown. The contractions were coming every seven minutes and were intense enough to force her into some kind of breathing technique, an automatic response to the barbs of pain searing through her lower back to the front of her pelvis. Panting through the waves was the only way she could handle them with any grace at all, other than whimpering softly to herself. The pressure was nearly overwhelming and she was terrified that one false move meant the baby would greet the world on the carpeted floor of the small apartment.

Mercifully, she heard her cell phone ring in their bedroom and she ambled wobbly down their hallway. Pain ripped through her middle, clenching her back and she pressed her right hand against the wall, panting the fiery pain away. Her belly was rigid and tight when she touched it and this scared her. Was labor supposed to be like that? Was her baby okay?

The phone rang for the fourth time as she stood in the hall, then signaled a voice mail message. "Hold on, El," Olivia gasped, waddling like a top-heavy penguin into their bedroom and grabbed the thing off of the table. She immediately dialed his number, but met his voice mail instead. She pressed 'end' in frustration, then accessed her contact list, dialing Elliot's extension to the squad room. After two rings, Fin's voice was heard.

"Special victim's unit, this is Detective Tutuola."

"Fin," Olivia said, alarmed at the desperation in her own voice.

"Liv? Is that you?"

"Yes."

"What's wrong?" he asked, clearly worried. "Is it the baby?"

"Yeah, I think I might be in labor. I need to talk to Elliot. He around?"

"He's not here, Liv. He stepped out for lunch. Have you tried his cell?"

She nodded even though he wouldn't be able to see it. "I just got his voice mail."

"I'll try him over the radio." She heard him speak into a portable, and listened intently to hear Elliot's response. About ten seconds passed before anything was heard.

She could make out Elliot's voice slightly. "Yeah."

"Elliot, man, call your wife."

Brief static, then: "What's wrong?"

"She thinks she's in labor."

"Oh, shit. I knew it! I gotta go, thanks."

Fin turned back to his conversation with Olivia. "All right, baby girl. I'm gonna let you go, but take it easy. And call us when it happens."

She couldn't help but grin excitedly. "Okay. I promise." She closed her cell only to hear the thing chime annoyingly once again. She didn't even pause to see who the caller was. "Yep."

Elliot sounded like an equal part of worry and excitement. "You think you're in labor?"

"Uh-huh. I'm having contractions every seven minutes or so, and I feel a lot of pressure." Just as she said this, she felt the gripping pain sear through her middle and back. This time it was followed by a wet feeling sliding down her thighs. She gasped and moaned into the cell, holding her belly in agony, wishing he was with her.

"Is it a contraction?" he asked, sounding helplessly anxious. "Liv?"

Olivia wasn't sure how to feel about the warm, wet feeling pooling at her feet. Had she just peed herself, or was that really the amniotic fluid sliding down her thighs? Had her bag of waters just burst? "Uh, El, I-I think my water just broke."

"What? You've got to be kidding me!" A new clamor of panic had risen in his voice. "Do you feel the urge to push?"

"I have pretty much all day, El."

"I mean, is it worse with the contractions?"

"Yes."

She could hear him hem and haw as his mind churned about what to do. "If you need to, baby, call an ambulance. I'm on my way."

* * *

"Come on!" Elliot crowed from the driver seat of the state-issued sedan. He was at a pause, traffic inching along in the horribly congested streets of lower Manhattan. He could feel the nervous anticipation and anxiety coursing through his veins, just as his mind was conjuring up an assortment of images featuring Olivia, all alone and in pain, unable to stop herself from giving birth to their child. _His _child. He'd made it to every birth with Kathy; how fucked up would it be if he couldn't even make it to this one? The speed of the labor process surprised him, but Olivia seemed to have a knack for always throwing him for a loop. It was just the way she was. He wouldn't have her any other way.

Finally, traffic eased and he was able to make some headway. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard for the tenth time in thirty seconds.

2:56 pm.

Why was it that time seemed to fly by so much faster when he actually needed it to slow down?

It was well after three o'clock when he rushed into the apartment building he had called home for these last few months, and halted in front of the elevator, tapping his foot impatiently and thumbing the 'up' button several times. The thing seemed to take ages to descend to the ground floor, and he seriously contemplated scrapping that idea and making for the stairs. Just when he had turned to run, the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

Elliot felt like his feet couldn't carry him fast enough to the apartment. What was he going to find when he got there? Paramedics? Olivia's absence since she'd clearly waited far too long for him to show up? His newborn child, sex still to be discovered, already welcomed to the world? He arrived at their door and thrust his hand into his right pocket, snatching his keys like a man possessed. His fingers were shaking when he inserted the front door key into the lock, but he was able to open it without delay. The room before him seemed normal, except a suitcase had been set next to the plush chair, along with a stack of pillows and their carefully selected green and yellow gender neutral infant seat.

"Liv?" he called, hoping he was still on time.

"Back here!" she answered from the bedroom. The timber of her voice sounded strange to his ears; he'd never heard her sound so shrill and fearful before. He followed the call to their bedroom, where he discovered Olivia bent over the end of their bed, one hand gripping her middle and the other pressed into the mattress. Her face was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and contorted with pain. Her expression softened a bit at the sight of him. "Thank God."

Elliot touched her back, feeling the rigidness of her muscles. "Do you have everything together?" he asked, taking a quick glance around the room.

She nodded, then pushed away from the bed and smoothed her hair away from her face. "Let's go."

They made their way out the door, with Elliot grabbing the items by the recliner and Olivia closing and locking the deadbolt. The two stopped several times on their way out of the building while she worked through the tiring contractions. They were closer together now. Elliot felt his body break out into a nervous cold sweat when he thought of the traffic they'd no doubt encounter, and that she was probably close to transition and delivery. He'd assisted the doctor with every one of his children's births, so the blood and fluids didn't bother him much, but if he must pull over to deliver his child with Olivia, would he do things correctly? What if something went wrong?

Elliot practically threw the suitcase and pillows into the backseat, then shoved the infant seat into some sort of reasonable position. He opened the passenger side door for his wife and she gingerly climbed in. He scrambled around to the driver's side and in ten seconds they were off.

Almost immediately, they were at almost a standstill in the street congestion. Elliot was anxiously tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, his heart pounding. Olivia was whimpering, as she had pulled the pillows up front with her and found some kind of solace in burying her face and leaning into them.

Her contraction was long and she was nearly crying. "I know, Liv. Hold on for a minute longer, okay?"

The hospital was only a couple miles away from their living quarters, but rush hour traffic had made the drive relentlessly long and aggravating. When they finally made it to the hospital parking garage, it was already a quarter after four o'clock. Olivia was clenching her thighs together tightly, and her body was pushed so far into her pillows that it almost seemed that they'd engulfed her completely. "All right," he announced as he pulled their car into a spot. "We're here, Liv."

"Okay," she whispered, raising her head a bit, just enough to glance at him. Elliot practically hopped out of the car and rounded to her side a few seconds later, pulling her gently to her feet. She put her hand on his shoulder and leaned into him, her other hand gripping the underside of her belly, and her small moans increased with the wave of her contraction. "I have to push, El!" she shrieked. He held onto her and massaged her lower back.

"Not yet, baby, we're almost there. Just a little longer, okay?" He wasn't sure how he could sound so calm and have his nerves be so shot. Elliot scanned the parking lot and noticed that there was a procession of wheelchairs lined up by the sky bridge. Once he felt Olivia relax, he guided her back to the seat. "I'll be right back. I'm gonna go get a chair so you don't have to walk." She simply nodded, gathered up her things slowly.

After getting her situated in the wheelchair and pushing her over the bridge, they entered the hospital. Since they had taken the liberty of walking through the grounds a month ahead of time, they both knew exactly where to go. And the pre-registration would make the process of getting to a room much easier. Elliot pushed them out of an elevator and onto the third floor where nurses and doctors were moving, constantly in motion like a swarm of bees. The two moved up to the nurse's station where the women looked up with perfect timing.

"My wife's in labor," Elliot said simply, probably looking half-crazed. "She says she's got to push."

The oldest nurse who took the position behind a computer peered down at Olivia over her reading glasses. "Are you pre-registered?"

Olivia sounded as if she wanted to strangle the woman. "Yes," she breathed, grimacing as a contraction ripped through her again. "Oh, God!"

Elliot filled in for her. "Olivia Stabler. S-T-A-B-L-E-R." The woman typed the name in and nodded.

"All right, let's get you a room," she mumbled, her fingers flying over her keyboard. She paused long enough for Elliot to glare impatiently at her. "We'll put you into room 6159." She got up and directed them to the left, down a hallway, passing the Special Care Nursery, where they caught glimpses of newborns under bilirubin lights and hooked up to all sorts of equipment. After passing the nursery, they turned to the right, which led to another hallway of rooms, until they stopped in front of the door with '6159' next to it. The nurse scribbled 'Stabler' onto the whiteboard underneath the room number and pushed the door open and thrust away a pink, flowered curtain. A neatly made bed came into view, with a couple of gowns folded just as tidily on top of it.

"Go ahead and get out of your clothes. Put the gowns on if you want; if you brought your own, that's fine. Just make sure you're not wearing any undies." The nurse smiled at the couple, then left them alone.

Olivia stood with her husband's help and stripped naked, leaving on her socks and bra, then slid on the backless hospital gown. She sank onto the stiff bed and squeezed her knees together, as she felt the horrible pain searing through her and the incredible urge to push. Elliot held her hand, allowing her to squeeze it until it practically broke in half. "El!" she panted. "Get a doctor, I have to push!"

He looked desperately at the door, which was open a crack, then back at her, unsure if he should leave her. "You sure?"

She gritted her teeth. "Yes, dammit, just go!"

Elliot took two wide steps to the door and swung it open, then peered down the hallway, where he spied the nurse that had brought them to their room originally. She met his gaze with complete calm. "She says she has to push _now._"

The nurse flipped through a clipboard, signed something, then dropped it into a holder. She moved over to a phone, then paged for a doctor, and followed Elliot back into the room.

Olivia was on her right side, curled into as much of a fetal position as she could muster. The bottom half of her gown was becoming wet and the nurse instantly became more concerned at the sight. "Has your water broken?" she asked, coming to the bedside and touching Olivia's hip gently. When the detective nodded wordlessly, the nurse moved across the room and grabbed a couple of sensors, hooked them up to a monitor, and placed them against Olivia's abdomen. She positioned one of the sensors near her pubic bone, which caused the baby's heartbeat to erupt in the room. It was fast and loud, but sounded strong. The next sensor went above the first, just above her navel, which would detect every contraction before she actually felt them. "How long ago did this happen? Do you remember?"

"I think...about two hours ago."

"How long have you been feeling labor pains?"

The contraction sensor showed a spike on the computer screen and Olivia prepared herself for the gripping surge of fire. She held onto the railing of the bed, crying out when the feeling overwhelmed her ability to handle it.

Elliot answered. "She called me around two o'clock in the afternoon." He glanced at his wife, grinning slightly. "Knowing her, probably this morning."

"Shut up, Elliot."

A doctor briskly walked in, looking harried and exhausted. He adjusted his lab coat and snapped on a pair of rubber gloves. "So, you feel like you have to push?" he asked, meeting the disdainful stares of the room occupants. He smiled nonetheless and sat on the edge of her bed. "All right, go ahead and moves your knees apart." He pushed up the gown and placed one hand against Olivia's shin. "Relax your legs a little bit." The doctor pushed down on Olivia's bulging stomach with his free hand and in with the other, inciting a fierce line of swear words to stream from the detective's mouth. After a few seconds he removed his hands. "There's some show."

Olivia looked confused, and up at Elliot for answers. "What's that mean?"

Elliot searched his memory, then shrugged. "I can't remember."

"God, El, you've helped four children into this world and you can't remember a damn thing about any of them." She rolled her eyes, missing the shared look between the hospital personnel and the momentarily crestfallen expression on his face.

"All it means," said the doctor "is that your cervix is ready for delivery. Baby is at plus-two station."

"Am I fully dilated?" Olivia asked hopefully.

"Yes," he answered. "I felt a full head of hair when I examined you. Whenever you feel the urge, go ahead and push." Thirty seconds of quiet mumbling between doctor and nurse went by before Olivia began to moan softly, climbing when the contraction increased in intensity.

The nurse grabbed Elliot's hand and placed it behind his wife's knee, then did the same on the other side. "Go ahead, push, hon'."

Olivia cried out in agony, curling her chin to her chest, her face contorting and darkening to scarlet. Elliot and the nurse automatically counted to ten, and Olivia finally relaxed with a loud burst of air, taking in a deep breath. The doctor was positioned between her legs, nodding at the nurse.

"Good push, Mrs. Stabler. Just try to stop yourself from crying out. You lose strength when you expel air."

Olivia was practically delirious by then. "Elliot," she said, tears pooling and then escaping. He frowned in concern, wishing he could take her place, but knew that this was impossible. He'd felt the same type of guilt and worry wash over him when Kathy'd gone through the first two births – both completely natural – and had felt equally as helpless. He gripped Olivia's hand.

"I know, Liv'. It'll be over soon." Elliot looked at the contraction monitor and watched the squiggly line shoot upward until it was off the charts. He prepared himself mentally for the anguish quick to come.

"Another one." Olivia moved her head to her chest and again pushing with all her might. This time, she kept herself from screaming, until the lot of them reached ten, and at that moment she gasped, jerking her hips slightly. "Son of a bitch! You did this to me, Elliot, I'm going to kill you when this is over!" She ignored his good-natured chuckle at her bedside.

The doctor was pulling on gloves and he turned to the nurse. "It's about that time."

Elliot's eyes widened. "Are you serious?" Maureen's birth took nearly two days; Kathleen's was about twelve hours with an hour of pushing and the twins had been via cesarean section and the wait for that whole ordeal seemed to take forever. With Olivia, it felt they'd only been in the process for minutes. He stood with the doctor. "Is it okay for the birth to happen so quickly?"

The doctor seemed to stare at him with good humor. "Usually the parents would be thrilled. Yes, it's all right. It probably just means she's been in labor for quite some time already without either of you realizing it."

Elliot smiled at Olivia, who looked absolutely miserable. "You hear that, Liv? We're going to have a baby here in a minute."

The doctor and nurse instantly began to gown themselves in standard hospital green scrubs and suddenly the reality of what was happening started to roll over in his mind. Olivia, partner for a decade, his best friend and confidant was minutes away from pushing out their child. _A baby._ A squalling, pink newborn would be taking his or her first breath.

Olivia's fingers clenched around his and her face twisted, revealing the forceful agony within. While Elliot's hand pulled back her right knee, he peered down between her legs where the doctor was quickly moving skin back to make room for the approaching head. He marveled at the sight that never lost its shock value. He felt her legs tremble almost violently as she relaxed. "Come on, Liv, right there. I see his head, Liv!" He laughed delightfully.

When the urge had eased, she had a moment of clarity. "How do you know it's a boy?" she barked, glaring intently through the sweat and tears.

His grin was wide, wider than it had been in a long time. "Call it a gut feeling."

She tossed fitfully, her hair sticking to her sweat-soaked face. "I can't do this anymore."

The doctor answered with light-hearted ease. "Sure you can, Mrs. Stabler." He lifted his gloved hands and Olivia was able to catch sight of the blood on them.

"Oh, my God," she said, panicked. "Where is that blood coming from?"

"It's okay. It's only a small amount of tearing. Easily fixable."

Olivia's body seized with pain and she instinctively pulled her knees back, pushing with all her might. She shrieked when the baby's head finally surfaced. "'Kay, Olivia," the doctor said calmly, "stop pushing." He took a bulb syringe and began suctioning fluid from the tiny nose and mouth. "Heads out, cord wrapped around the neck, times two." The doctor stated stoically, and the nurse nodded, ready with a sterile blanket for the baby to be placed. Elliot watched with concern as the man slipped the umbilical cord from the tiny neck, which was a frightening shade of mottled purple. "All right, Olivia. Push!"

The rest of the baby's body seemed to come out much easier, and the small form was placed onto the sterile blanket which had been slapped onto his wife's abdomen. Olivia's reaction was not at all like Kathy's, whose response was to cry hysterically. His former partner's reaction was, as a woman who had witnessed the worst kind of degeneracy, to marvel at the newborn being rubbed vigorously by the nurse with a dazed expression. Elliot grinned and put one hand on Olivia's head, the other on the blanket.

The doctor lifted the tiny leg as the nurse wiped the birthing fluids off of the baby aggressively. "It's a boy!"

Olivia let her head hit the pillow underneath her. "A boy," she breathed. She glanced over at Elliot's grinning face. He kissed her nose affectionately.

The nurse continued scrubbing the newborn, who had yet to make a noise. "Why isn't he crying?" she asked the nurse and doctor, who flicked the heels of the boy to help stimulate the infant, then suctioned out his mouth with a plastic tube. "He isn't crying. Elliot!"

Anxiety bubbled in his stomach, but he pushed it down for her sake. "It's okay, hon'. He'll be okay."

Finally, a slightly gurgled squeak emitted from the cringing newborn's mouth. "There he is," the nurse said and handed him a pair of surgical scissors. The squeak was quickly replaced with the familiar newborn cries that he had been painfully accustomed to so long ago. "Go ahead and cut the cord, Mr. Stabler." Elliot did as told and the boy was whisked away to a heated bed.

Olivia grimaced as she was sutured, but still managed to watch her son be cleaned thoroughly, examined, and swaddled tightly in a receiving blanket. After having a hospital issued hat placed on his head, the baby was brought over to the expectant parents, and the new mother was gently handed the newborn.

Elliot leaned over the two of them, beaming like an idiot. He could not grasp that he was officially a father of five now, and that the birth had been so quick that he'd forgotten to call anyone. Maureen, Kathleen, the twins…they now had another sibling. The entire squad had made sure Olivia knew how much they anticipated the birth, and had her number on speed dial the minute she'd left for maternity leave.

He tenderly touched the baby's head, then kissed Olivia's. She turned toward him and pulled him to her for a more intimate embrace, to which he gladly obliged.

"I'm so proud of you, Liv." He met her gaze. "I love you."

Her eyes misted over. "I love you, too." She glanced back down at the newborn, admiring the perfectly fine, dark curls peeking out from the hat and chuckled. "I can't believe it was that fast."

He laughed heartily. "Trust me, it usually isn't."

* * *

I can't let them go! EO forever!


End file.
